A Hidden Life

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XVII

The highest marble Sorrow vanishes Before a weeping child.[2] The one doth seem, The other is. And wherefore do we dream, But that we live? So I rejoice in this, That Thou didst cast Thyself, in all the bliss Of conscious strength, into Life's torrent stream, (Thy deeds fresh life-springs that with blessings teem) Acting, not painting rainbows o'er its hiss. Forgive me, Lord, if in these verses lie Mean thoughts, and stains of my infirmity; Full well I know that if they were as high In holy song as prophet's ecstasy, 'Tis more to Thee than this, if I, ah me! Speak gently to a child for love of Thee.

[Footnote 2: John Sterling.]



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